


A Place Like This

by MelayneSeahawk



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Force-Sensitive Poe Dameron, Force-User Finn, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, non-TLJ compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-10 01:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelayneSeahawk/pseuds/MelayneSeahawk
Summary: “Seriously, what’s got you down?”“I was better off before I returned to civilization."





	A Place Like This

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [to the sky without wings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5609887) by [leupagus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leupagus/pseuds/leupagus). 



> Canon divergent after TFA
> 
> This fic would not exist without leupagus' "to the sky without wings". Alpha-read by the wonderful pigsflew. Unbetaed.

If there’s one thing Poe has learned in his travels, it’s that every sentient species has found some method for getting drunk. Of course, one being’s good time is another’s coffin, but that’s the case with a lot of things. Poe has also found that most sentients like company while they consume their substance of choice.

 

The Resistance base on Niara III, the new base after the destruction of D’Qar, is no different. With dozens of species represented, one of the first facilities set up, after main command and the X-wing bays, was a bar. A rotating group takes turns tending bar, and while supplies are generally short, Poe knows most of the pilots and operatives make a point of bringing back a bottle or two of something whenever they go planetside somewhere with civilization.

 

Poe himself is carrying a bounty when he enters the bar: a whole case of Breath of Heaven, nicked from a slaver while Poe was helping liberate some captured operatives. Poe sets the case on the bar, grins at the bartender, and looks around the mostly empty room. His grin turns sly as he wanders to the far end of the room and slides into a seat across from the loneliest-looking man in the bar.

 

“What’s a nice Jedi like you doing in a place like this?” Poe says, and Luke Skywalker looks up from contemplating his virulently pink drink to give Poe a wry smile.

 

“Sometimes I ask myself the same question,” Luke says, lifting one robotic finger from the table and setting the drink stirring itself with its sad excuse for a bendy straw. He’s looking better than he did when he arrived on base: less gaunt, clean robes he’d drummed up from somewhere, beard trimmed rather than allowed to run wild, but there’s still a darkness in his eyes. “Not that anyone’s called me ‘nice’ in a very long time, possibly ever.”

 

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Poe says, with a broad grin and a wink that causes Luke to roll his eyes. “Seriously, what’s got you down?”

 

“I was better off before I returned to civilization,” Luke says, and Poe frowns. He was expecting something about Rey and Finn’s training, or maybe a conflict with the General, not an existential crisis.

 

“Unfortunately, we need you here,” Poe says, after thinking about it for a minute. “And I’m sure the company’s better.”

 

Luke looks up sharply, and something in his expression sends a frisson down Poe’s spine. Poe’s been having this reaction to Luke since the Jedi returned from Ahch-To, dragged all but kicking and screaming back to the Resistance by Rey. Poe knows himself well enough to know what it means, but for once he’s not going to follow his instincts and pursue the other man. What he knows about the Jedi is almost entirely hearsay, but the consensus seems to be that Jedi tend to be celibate.

 

“Well, if you ever need a reminder of the benefits of rejoining civilization, you let me know,” Poe says finally, pressing up from the table. On a whim, he grabs Luke’s drink as he passes, takes a long drink (despite the color and decoration, it _burns_ all the way down), and sets the glass back down. “Seeya ‘round, Skywalker.”

 

Luke makes an odd face and pulls the glass back to his hand without touching it. “Call me Luke, Dameron.”

 

Poe grins, possibly wider than is wise. “Then you can call me Poe.”

 

***

 

“Finn thinks you should put him out of his misery,” Rey says, and Poe blinks. “I happen to agree.”

 

She’s in a handstand, one hand thrown wide as she apparently uses the Force to keep herself stable. They’re in one corner of the room that’s been turned over to Luke for training; he and Finn are on the other side of the large space, doing some kind of slow-motion stretching thing. Poe knows he’s a little Force-sensitive himself, but this Jedi stuff is far beyond him.

 

“Dare I ask who ‘he’ is?” Poe asks, but he has a sinking feeling that he already knows the answer.

 

Rey presses up from the floor, switching to her other hand and landing with barely a wobble. She casts a pointed glance at Luke and then glares at Poe, the expression losing much of its gravitas due to being upside down. “He pines for you.”

 

“Who the hell have you been talking to?” Poe asks, dropping into a cross-legged position so he can whisper. “Is Jessika giving you romance holonovels again?”

 

Rey sniffs, but doesn’t disagree. “Do you know what it’s like training with a crabby Jedi Master?”

 

“I had some pretty grumpy flight instructors, back in the day,” Poe says, and Rey rolls her eyes. “Seriously, though, I thought Jedi didn’t do attachments.”

 

“That’s not what he’s teaching us,” Rey says. She tosses herself in the air, turns a flip that the gravity of Niara shouldn’t allow for, and lands lightly on her hands and knees before folding into a posture like Poe’s. “He knows Finn and I are…” she stops, blushing slightly, and Poe grins. “He’s commented on not letting it distract us from training, but he hasn’t said we’re not allowed. He might even be encouraging it, in a roundabout way.”

 

Poe glances quickly over at Luke and Finn, but they don’t appear to be listening. “What makes you think he’s even interested in me?”

 

“I mean, have you seen yourself?” Rey asks, laughing at whatever she sees in his expression. The bright sound echos around the room, and Finn looks up for a moment to grin at them before a soft word from Luke brings his attention back. “Seriously, though, have you seen the way he looks at you?”

 

“With annoyance, mostly?” Poe says, and Rey shakes her head. “I mean, I see him around base a lot, but the base isn’t that big, and he always seems to be staring off into the middle distance unless he’s actually talking to someone.”

 

“I guess he probably only does it when you’re not looking,” she concedes, and Poe gives her a look. She shrugs, unrepentant. “He’s not entirely happy to be here yet, but my...uh, my sense of him is more settled, I guess, when he’s with me and Finn, and the General. And you.”

 

“So he finds me...comfortable?” Poe asks, grimacing. “That’s not a great place to start a relationship from.”

 

Rey exhales noisily and rolls her eyes. “That’s not it,” she says. “I’m not sure how to describe it.”

 

“Sorry,” Poe says quietly, and Rey shrugs one shoulder. He forgets sometimes how isolated Rey’s life was before joining the Resistance. They sit in silence for a few moments.

 

“It’s more like how Finn feels when he’s around me,” she says finally, and Poe’s heart stutters. He knows how crazy Finn is about Rey. “Not as strong, but similar. Like...like he’s where he wants to be.”

 

Poe nods, a thrill going up his spine. Part of him is trying to tell him she must be wrong, but Poe’s never been much of a pessimist, and despite everything, that optimism has mostly worked out for him. “So what are you suggesting I do, exactly?”

 

Rey looks about to answer but then her mouth snaps shut, looking over his shoulder. Poe turns to see that Luke and Finn have finished and are heading their way. “How was training?” Rey asks Finn, whose face brightens as he offers her a hand to get up. She pops up without his help, so Poe grabs his hand, causing Finn to laugh as Poe hauls himself up with a slight wince.

 

“Maybe you should be stretching with us,” Finn says, still chuckling.

 

“I don't think I need to commune with the universe,” Poe says, grinning back. “Does it even work for normals like me?”

 

“You're not a normal,” Luke says, with a small smile. “And meditation can calm the mind no matter what your connection with the Force.”

 

“Maybe,” Poe says, and he can't ignore the way Luke's expression brightens. “Maybe I'll take you up on that.”

 

***

 

“You’re being ridiculous.”

 

Luke doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading. “What is it I’m supposed to have done now?” he asks.

 

“The way you look at Dameron,” Leia says, throwing herself into the other chair. “It’s embarrassing. I’m embarrassed for you.”

 

They’re in Luke’s tiny office on the base, which Luke only uses when he wants to be left alone. The barracks and mess hall tend to be noisy, and other than training Rey and Finn, Luke doesn’t really have any responsibilities. Most beings on the base are still scared of him, or a least wary, so no one bothers him in his office.

 

Well, almost no one.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luke says, still refusing to look up. This close, he can sense his sister’s emotions pretty well, and while she’s clearly up to no good, he can sense something heavier behind it. “I'm not looking at anyone ‘like’ anything.”

 

Leia frowns. “You're not in self-exile anymore. When’s the last time you interacted with someone on base who wasn't me or one of your students?” she asks, making a discontented sound when he doesn't answer. “You're not a loner by nature, you're not happy alone.”

 

Luke shrugs, putting the book aside with a sheet of notes as a bookmark. “The only people on base who aren't afraid of me are you three...and Poe.”

 

“Some people are just in awe of you.”

 

“That's even worse,” Luke says, pushing his bangs up off his forehead. He's been on Niara for a few weeks now, and he's probably due for a haircut, maybe a full shave since the planet is much less windy and cold than Ahch-To. “I'm tired of being a symbol, an archetype.”

 

“And you think I'm not?” Leia asks, squinting at him. “You don't let that stop you. You find people who can see past that and let them set the tone for others.”

 

Luke gives her a pointed look but doesn't reply.

 

They sit in somewhat uncomfortable silence for a while, Luke looking out the window, able to feel Leia's eyes on him. Eventually, she huffs and says, “Didn't you once tell me that some of what caused the downfall of the Jedi was their rejection of attachments?”

 

“I'm pretty sure our father caused the fall of the Jedi.” _And me_ , he doesn't add, but Leia frowns as if she can hear the thought. “But yes, I do think that their refusal to form or acknowledge connections made them vulnerable.”

 

“That's what you're teaching Rey and Finn, correct?” Luke nods, not sure he likes where this is going. “Then why haven't you asked Dameron out yet?”

 

“There is no way Poe Dameron is interested in me,” Luke says helplessly, knowing he's not really answering her question directly but not caring. “I'm old enough to be his father. I'm a washed up old hermit.”

 

“We both know that's not true,” Leia says quietly, a frown on her face. “You have plenty to offer. To Rey and Finn, if nothing else, but also to the rest of the Resistance. You're a symbol, just like me, whether you like it or not. You could do more if you wanted to.” She sighs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “We need you. I need you. And whether you believe it or not, Poe needs you, too.”

 

“Aren't you too busy leading the Resistance to be matchmaking?” he says, voice gone sharp.

 

He _does_ like Poe, likes his smile and the way his mind works. Poe is one of the only people on base who speaks to him without that edge of discomfort or hero-worship, and he's the only one on base who doesn't expect anything of him. Luke purposely ignores what the Force might be telling him about Poe, not wanting it to color how he feels about him.

 

And yes, sometimes he gets distracted from his meditation by thoughts of Poe's curly hair or his full mouth, but he's only human.

 

Leia makes a satisfied noise, like she can hear the shift in his thoughts. “As a matter of fact, I am. Come to a strategy meeting sometime and take some work off my plate. Plus, you'll get to show the awed masses what the Last Jedi looks like before his kaf.”

 

Luke grumbles, and Leia’s face is triumphant as she glides out of his office as quickly as she arrived. “Why do I put up with you?” he calls after her, only to be met with her chiming laughter drifting up the hall.

 

***

 

Another successful mission down, Poe sits in a corner of the base bar, a small smile on his face, nursing a drink while he watches the rest of his squadron celebrate. Normally, he’d be right there with them (they destroyed their target with no casualties on their side) but right now he’s tired.

 

Tired enough, it seems, that he doesn’t notice Luke approach until he sits down next to Poe, looking out at the revelry. “Not in a celebratory mood?”

 

Poe shrugs, glancing up at those bright blue eyes before looking away. “Just tired,” he says, lifting his glass when Jess salutes him with hers before going back to an intense conversation with Yolo. “It’s been a long few...years, actually.”

 

Luke nods in sympathy. “It’s important to take joy where you can find it,” he says, before pursing his lips, as if he’d just tasted something sour.

 

“Sure, of course,” Poe agrees, looking back over the celebrating pilots and support crew. “I’ll get back to that tomorrow. Now I think I need to brood a bit.”

 

“Should I go?”

 

“No, stay,” Poe says, surprising himself. He was only here because he’d be missed if he weren’t, but he hadn’t been interested in talking to anyone much. But maybe it was less about the talking and more about the conversation partner. “It’s not that I question the necessity of what we’re doing,” he says finally. “But sometimes all the death and destruction is a heavy thing.”

 

“Yes,” Luke says, servos whirring as he clenches his right hand. Poe looks up into his face, and for a moment Luke’s expression is very dark and very far away. But then he almost visibly changes mental tracks, shaking his head slightly and looking at Poe’s face. “I wanted to tell you, I’ve asked Leia to add me to the pilot roster. I’m a little rusty, but I bet I can catch back up pretty quickly.”

 

“Rey and Finn don’t need you on base?” Poe asks, though the idea of flying with Luke Skywalker, one of the best pilots in the Rebellion, is thrilling.

 

“They’re far enough along in their training that they don’t need me breathing down their necks every second of the day cycle,” Luke says, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Honestly, by this point they’ve gotten more formal training with a Master than I ever did. In the Old Republic, Jedi were just Jedi, nothing more. It was...recently brought to my attention that it doesn’t have to be that way anymore. Rey is an excellent mechanic and pilot. Admiral Statura says Finn’s a crack shot, which doesn’t really surprise me.” Luke sighs. “The galaxy doesn’t need a handful of Jedi hiding on a base somewhere. We can be useful in other ways.”

 

Poe notices that there seems to be something lighter about Luke. There’s still a shadow in his eyes he’ll probably never be free of, but he seems less far away, more present than he’s previously felt. “Well, I can tell you we’ll be glad of any help you can provide.”

 

Luke smiles at him, and the warmth in it takes Poe’s breath away. Poe ducks his head, hoping the blush heating his cheeks isn’t too visible, and smiles back.

 

***

 

Poe regrets his brooding later, when he’s in the middle of an _actual_ shitshow mission, systems running on minimal power while he hides in the cloud of metallic dust around a mid-sized gas giant where the searching TIE fighters can’t detect him. His ship can detect their heat signatures, at least, so it’ll do for the time being. And he’s got enough supplies to wait them out a few days, so it might just be an issue of being patient.

 

Assuming they eventually get bored and give up, rather than sending reinforcements from the small First Order base on one of the planet’s rockier moons.

 

Poe and another pilot, a newly-recruited Keshian named Cerys, had been sent to reconnoiter the base. It should have been a breeze, a good way to introduce Cerys to how the Resistance ran missions, but it had gone wrong as soon as they’d left hyperspace. Poe had shot off a quick coded message to Niara base, but then had lost himself in avoiding the half a squadron of TIE fighters while covering Cerys. She was a more than competent pilot, but she’d take a hit under the fuselage that sent her careening into a satellite bit of rock the size of a large house. He wasn’t sure if she’d made it, if she was dead or just hiding like he was.

 

Poe had made it into a thicker part of the cloud and made like a hole in space, but he can’t power back up to make a getaway without alerting the searching ships to his location. Even BB-8 is in low power mode for the time being.

 

After the first few hours, Poe lets his mind drift, thinking about Cerys, about the quick scan of the base BB-8 had gotten before turning all its attention to the fight. A sensor modification he wants to make to _Black One_ when he’s back on base. The holonovel he’s reading, which he really needs to finish before Karé demands it back. A certain Jedi with stunning blue eyes, smiling fondly at him over their drinks before reaching out and —

 

A crackle of static on his radio pulls Poe out of his daydream, just as his sensors start picking up splashes of heat that can only be a dogfight. “Black Leader, come in. Black Three to Black Leader, come in,” comes a tinny voice over the radio, and for a moment Poe thinks he’s still dreaming, because the voice sounds like…

 

“Luke?” Poe asks incredulously, sitting upright and starting the process of heating up _Black One_ and waking BB-8.

 

“Call signs only in enemy territory, commander,” Luke says, and Poe can hear his smile. “I brought reinforcements.”

 

“Black Two was damaged,” Poe says, receiving telemetry from the computer. BB-8 is already calculating trajectories to bring him into formation with the four X-wings of Luke’s backup. “I’m not sure if she made it.”

 

“Black Two here,” Cerys’ voice comes, tight with pain, as another spot of heat blooms into life on Poe’s readout. “In one piece, mostly, though I’m going to need a tow.”

 

“Your show, Black Three,” Poe says, taking out a TIE fighter screaming past with a shot to its port solar array that sends it crashing into another large rock and exploding in a quick burst of light. “Call it.”

 

There’s a pause, and then Luke starts giving orders. “Black Five, get Black Two out of here, we’ll cover you. Black Leader, are you good to fly?”

 

“All systems go,” Poe says, after a quick status update from BB-8.

 

“Good,” Luke says. “Fall in. We’ve got them outnumbered. Four, cover Five and Two. Six and Seven, flank left. Leader, with me.”

 

The fight doesn’t take long after that, the three remaining TIE fighters no match for five X-wings, once Black Five is clear and pulls Two with him into hyperspace. Flying with Luke is like dancing: perfectly in sync without having to say a word, even better than he’d imagined. BB-8 finishes its scans around the same time the last TIE goes down with a flash of burning oxygen, and Poe signals the rest of the squadron. “Better get out of here before they send reinforcements.”

 

“Alright, everyone, back to base,” Luke says, and Poe slips into hyperspace, letting the streaks of light calm him as he goes through the slightly circuitous path back to base.

 

This wasn’t his most dire mission (nothing can compare with Jakku), but something about it leaves him trembling slightly until he takes the time to catch his breath and unclench his hands. He comes back out of hyperspace and begins his approach, letting go of a breath he’s probably been holding since he sent the distress call.

 

He lets himself sink into the rituals of returning to base, following the instructions of the hangar crew until he’s climbing out of his X-wing and slipping down to the hangar floor. He helps BB-8 free of the fighter, watching with a small smile as the droid lets out a relieved whistle and then rolls away to find a charging port. Poe’s tired too, but oddly jittery, on edge.

 

His smile falls off his face when he spots Luke marching over to him, expression thunderous. Poe straightens his posture, facing the Jedi head-on. “I —”

 

“Don’t,” Luke interjects, coming to a stop just inside Poe’s personal space. Before Poe can react, Luke wraps a hand around the back of Poe’s skull and pulls him into a scorching kiss.

 

***

 

For a moment, Luke lets himself focus on the details of kissing Poe: the warm, slightly chapped lips against his, the wiry softness of Poe’s hair against his fingers, the way one of Poe’s hands comes up to hesitantly rest on his hip. Luke knows he’s kissing Poe like a drowning man clutching at the only thing that might keep him afloat, but he doesn’t care.  He’s kissing Poe and Poe is kissing him back and for a moment, everything’s fine.

 

But then the sounds and smells of the hangar come back to him and he reluctantly pulls back from the kiss, smirking slightly at Poe’s stunned expression. “Um,” Poe says. “Hi?”

 

“Welcome back,” Luke says with a wry smile. They’re still touching, tucked together into the shadow of Poe’s fighter. He can hear the sounds of pilots and techs calling back and forth, and the grinding of metal on metal that probably means someone’s already getting to work on the damaged X-wing, but it all seems far away, unimportant in this moment. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

 

“Can’t promise,” Poe says, with a hint of his usual grin. “How’d you even find me, anyway? I didn’t have time to put coordinates into the distress call, and I was pretty far from the First Order base when I shut down.”

 

“I...felt you,” Luke says. Talking about the Force can be difficult sometimes. “I sensed you were in trouble moments before the distress call came in. I was able to pinpoint on the planetary scan roughly where you’d be, and Leia sent me to head the rescue mission. Then it was just a matter of broadcasting that we were there and drawing the TIE fighters away.”

 

“You felt me?” Poe says, expression confused. “I thought you could only do that with other Force users.”

 

“It also works with people you care about,” Luke says hesitantly. “That you have a...a mental connection with. Leia had that kind of connection with Han,” he adds softly, acknowledging the pain that comes with remembering his friend and then releasing it. He lets his hands drop and starts to move away, but Poe’s hand is still on his hip and he doesn’t get far.

 

Poe’s expression is hard to read, eyes searching Luke’s face but when Luke lets himself look he sees that Poe’s aura in the Force is bright, happy and warm. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?” Poe asks finally, a small private smile spreading across his face. He reaches out and takes Luke’s hand. “Like, now, maybe? I’m starving.”

 

“Yes,” Luke says, gently tightening his metal fingers around Poe’s flesh ones. Poe shines even brighter, with a warmth that cuts into the chill that’s been in Luke’s bones since before he’d exiled himself to a windswept island. “I’d like that very much.”

 

Poe laughs, a bright sound that echoes around the hangar, and tugs Luke outside and into the sun.


End file.
